“He’s not young,” Sabine said, but I could barely hear her over the horrible conclusion building to a crescendo in my head. Beck—whatever he was—was preying on teenage girls. “In fact, he’s afraid he’s waited too long, and that he won’t live to see another fertile period.”
“Fertile period?” Emma echoed, and the picture refusing to come into focus in my head grew a little darker.
“What is he?” I stared at the table beneath my hands, concentrating on the grout between the tiles to focus my thoughts.
Sabine exhaled and crossed her arms on the slick four-inch tiles. “My best guess is…incubus. Our new math teacher is a no-shit, in-the-flesh lust-demon. What are the chances?”
“Pretty damn good, considering Eastlake High makes Buffy’s hellmouth look like a crack in the sidewalk.” I shoved hair back from my face and met Sabine’s black-eyed gaze, which practically sparked with anticipation—the sure sign of an adrenaline junkie. “What exactly are you basing this assessment on?”
“Other than the fact that he’s not human, but he lives on this side of the barrier?” she asked, and I nodded. “Mostly the fertile period part. Incubi are only capable of breeding, like, once a century. Or something like that. And if he’s afraid he’s too old, I’m guessing that rumor about him being twenty-two is way off base.”
“Wait, incubus?” Emma said, glancing back and forth between us, desperately trying to keep up. “Like, the band?”
I was starting to really regret my promise of full disclosure. “No. Like the psychic parasite.”
“Psychic…parasite?” If Em frowned any harder, her face would cave in on itself. “So, what? They drink thoughts?”
Sabine rolled her eyes. “The only thing worse than working with one clueless do-gooder is working with two.” She twisted on the bench to face Emma, and I leaned closer to listen. My knowledge of incubi was limited to a couple of stories from our mythology unit in English the year before, and if those were as inaccurate as the stories about “banshees,” then I really knew next to nothing.
“Psychic parasites feed from human energy, in one form or another. An incubus, specifically, feeds from lust.”
“Please tell me this means you’ve come up against one before,” I said, hoping for a ray of sunshine in what was otherwise turning out to be a very cloudy day.
“As interesting a story as that would have been…no.” Sabine actually sounded disappointed. “I did meet a succubus once, though. That’s the female version of an incubus,” she added, glancing at Emma. “We did not get along.”
“Color me shocked.”
“Okay…” Emma frowned at Sabine. “Incubi and maras both feed from human energy, right?” she said, and Sabine nodded, already scowling in advance of Emma’s point. “So that makes you different from Mr. Beck how?”
“When I feed, I don’t kill people,” Sabine snapped.
“Well, neither has he,” Em insisted. “We don’t even know for a fact that Danica’s baby was his.”
“Like I said, I’m eighty-percent sure of his species, and if I’m right about that, the probability of that being his baby is closer to ninety-nine percent.”
And if he’d lost both the baby and the ability to have another with Danica, would he be looking for a new potential mother from among his remaining students? Maybe…students who needed help with math?
“Can we please forget the percentage points?” Em groaned. “This is already too much like school.”
“And if he’s as old as I think he is, he has killed,” Sabine continued, ignoring Em’s complaint. “Otherwise he wouldn’t have survived this long.”
“But he’s obviously not feeding where he…breeds, or else we’d have heard about the deaths.” I closed my eyes, far from relieved that my distraction had actually turned into something big enough to eclipse my own problems. “Any idea how often he has to eat?”
Sabine shook her head. “Sorry. I exhausted my incubus knowledge with that fertile period thing.”
“Well, you knew more than I did. What else did you get from reading him?” I asked, while Em listened with a frown, obviously reluctant to believe anything bad about Mr. Beck.
“Um…he’s afraid that the girls are too old, though I’m not sure I understand that, if he’s targeting his students.” Which seemed to be the case, if we were right about Danica. “And he’s afraid that even if he gets a baby, it won’t be a boy. He’s scared of a lot of things,” Sabine said, and when I looked up, I realized she was talking to me, not Em. “But do you know what he’s not afraid of?”
“Clowns?” Emma said, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation.
Sabine never even glanced at her, and I shook my head in reply. I had no idea.
“Getting caught.” The mara’s eyes gleamed with a dark malevolence I found oddly comforting, since she was on my side this time. “It hasn’t even crossed his mind that there might be a consequence in this for him, other than not getting what he wants. How do you feel about that, Kay?”
“Pissed off.” I was almost as surprised by the anger in my own voice as I was by the actual words I hadn’t intended to say. Until I realized they were true. I was pissed, on Danica’s behalf, and on behalf of anyone else who may have suffered like she did.
Sabine nodded sharply, and her earrings glinted in the sun from the skylight overhead. “I say we take the bastard down.”
9
Emma had to leave for work straight from the food court, but Sabine insisted on following me home in her car so we could start researching incubi in general, and Mr. Beck in particular. She claimed dedication to the mission, and I’m sure that was part of it—she typically cured boredom with chaos—but I wasn’t fooled; we could have researched separately and combined info later. Sabine was coming over so that when Nash arrived after practice, we wouldn’t be alone.
And honestly, I couldn’t blame her.
I pushed the front door open and was surprised to find Alec sitting on the couch, obviously waiting for me.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” I held the door for Sabine, then closed it behind her. “And how’d you get in?” As happy as I was to see him, I couldn’t help being suspicious. It turned out that about half the time I’d spent with Alec when he was staying with us had actually been spent in the company of Avari, the hellion of greed who’d been possessing him and using him to kill my teachers.
But then I noticed Styx curled up asleep on the couch next to him, and both my suspicion and fear slipped away. She would never sleep through a hellion possession.
Alec stood and held his arms out for me. “Your dad dropped by my place on his way to work this morning with a key and a strongly worded request that I come keep you company tonight. He’s not gonna make it for dinner.” I let him fold me into a hug, and I knew by his tight grip and reluctance to let go that my dad had filled him in completely—and that he was now off looking for some way to save my life. “Four days, Kay? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Before I could answer, Styx’s head popped up and a low growl rumbled from her throat. Sabine stiffened and I backed out of Alec’s brotherly grip, all three of us instantly on alert.
“Yeah, why didn’t you tell him, Kay?” Thane said, and I whirled around to see the reaper standing in the kitchen doorway, eyeing me in mock concern. “Don’t you think your friends should know you’re about to leave them?”
“What’s wrong?” Sabine had noticed me staring toward the kitchen, and Alec was just watching me, waiting.
“Nothing,” I said, hyperaware of Tod’s warning about putting our friends in danger. “Styx is probably just mad that we interrupted her nap.”
“Yeah, that’s it….” Thane said from behind me. I actually heard his clothes rustle as he came closer and because I didn’t trust him at my back, it took every bit of self-control I had to keep ignoring him. “Where’d you get that thing, anyway? I’ve never seen one of those yappy little monsters on this side of the barrier.”